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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795921">Tarnished</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopardchic79/pseuds/leopardchic79'>leopardchic79</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Cheating, Drinking, F/M, M/M, POV Alternating, Past Underage Sex, Prostitution mentioned, Sequel, Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:41:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopardchic79/pseuds/leopardchic79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after leaving town, Peter returns to Storybrooke....</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Milah, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Peter Pan | Malcolm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tarnished</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087593/chapters/2188513">Poisoned</a>.  Best to read that one first.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
    It hadn’t been a great day. Uncooperative witnesses, a no-show client, and
    a headache that had been building steadily for several hours. He was
    looking forward to leaving, meeting Milah for dinner, and going home. David
    had already left for the day, locking up behind him. So he was surprised
    when he heard the outside door open.
</p>
<p>
    Expecting Milah – she met him at work sometimes – or maybe even David if
    he’d forgotten something, he didn’t look up from the papers he was filing
    away in a bottom desk drawer.
</p>
<p>
    “Hello, Killian.”
</p>
<p>
    He froze. He had <em>not</em> been expecting Peter.
</p>
<p>
    Hook couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, could barely think. He stayed
    perfectly still, not looking up yet, needing a moment to compose himself.
    His only thought was to wonder why he was here.
</p>
<p>
    After Peter had been shot and left the hospital to stay with him, their
    relationship – if it could be called that – had only lasted for a year. It
    had stung when Peter had decided to leave, but he could also admit that it
    had been a huge relief.
</p>
<p>
    He’d forced himself to change some things then. He spent more time working,
    he managed to move out of his rundown apartment and buy a small house. He
    tried his best to drink less, although it wasn’t always a successful
    endeavor. None of the people he would call friends had exactly approved of
    his relationship with Peter – not that he blamed them – so he knew they
    were all more than relieved that it had ended and that Peter had left town.
    Neal and Emma never mentioned it if they could help it. Only David asked
    how he was after Peter had left, knowing that Hook had feelings for the
    teenager but not exactly sure of what they were.
</p>
<p>
    It was something Hook understood well as he wasn’t quite sure of his
    feelings either. Some nights he wanted nothing more than for Peter to
    suddenly show up in his home, saunter close to him with that smirk on his
    lips and whisper all kinds of filthy promises into his ear. Most of the
    time though he was glad to be rid of him…and all of the guilt that came
    along with the attraction he didn’t know how to resist.
</p>
<p>
    Now though…it had been five years. He’d given up on thinking that Peter
    would ever come back and figured that he had long since forgotten about
    him.
</p>
<p>
    Steeling himself, he turned slowly and looked up. A wave of desire made his
    breath catch in his throat and he felt trapped. Peter looked different but
    the same. Obviously older, but still lean, still young, still so incredibly
    alluring. Swallowing hard, he found himself unable to look away from those
    green-gray eyes and that knowing smirk that drove him crazy.
</p>
<p>
    “Miss me?” Peter asked. He leaned back against the door and crossed his
    arms over his chest, eyes full of that same, dangerous glint that had
    gotten Hook into so much trouble the first time.
</p>
<p>
    Hook took a deep breath and forced himself not to react, although he was
    sure Peter would see through it anyway. He shrugged and leaned back in his
    chair, kicking his desk drawer closed with his foot. “Occasionally,” he
    answered.
</p>
<p>
    Peter rolled his eyes and grinned, knowing there was more to it than that.
    He pushed away from the door and took a few steps closer, dropping down
    into one of the chairs in front of Hook’s desk, all long, lean limbs and
    that never ending smirk.
</p>
<p>
    Hook couldn’t take his eyes off of him, and he knew that Peter knew it. He
    could see it in the way his smirk stayed put, in the way he propped his
    feet up on his desk and didn’t say a word. Hook knew he’d have to give in.
</p>
<p>
    “Why are you here?”
</p>
<p>
    Shrugging, Peter’s eyes darkened for just a moment as he crossed his arms
    over his chest. “I dunno,” he answered, nonchalantly. “Boredom? Nostalgia?”
    He shrugged again.
</p>
<p>
    Hook knew he wouldn’t get a more detailed answer and he knew better than to
    ask for one. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know. A part of him was
    itching to be closer to Peter already, to reach out…to <em>touch</em>. But
    mostly, he desperately wanted to escape before he did something he knew
    he’d regret. In the back of his mind, there was the thought that he’d end
    up doing that anyway. He was just hoping to avoid it for as long as he
    could.
</p>
<p>
    He reached for his keys and pushed back from his desk, trying his hardest
    to avoid Peter’s eyes. “Peter, I have somewhere I need to be. If you want
    to catch up, maybe we could meet somewhere tomorrow…” he trailed off,
    aiming for casual and knowing he was failing. As if Peter was just another
    ex or old friend he only sort of wanted to reconnect with. Truth be told,
    he was worried. Peter could only turn his life upside down again, and what
    was worse was that Hook knew he wouldn’t have a choice. He’d let him. He
    was already battling one addiction against alcohol. Trying to resist Peter
    would be entirely more difficult.
</p>
<p>
    Abruptly, Peter lowered his feet from the desk and stood up. “Not a
    problem,” he replied, shrugging. There was a brief flash of anger in his
    gaze that sent Hook’s blood running cold. He knew that Peter wouldn’t give
    up so easily. Or at all. “I’ll be in town for a bit…so I’m sure we can meet
    up at some point.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook swallowed hard, still nervous, even though Peter seemed strangely
    agreeable. He stood up and followed him out of his office into their small
    waiting area. Peter turned quickly as Hook closed the door and was suddenly
    right in front of him. He gripped tightly to his arm and leaned in close.
    “I’ll see you soon, Killian,” he said, voice low, breath hot against Hook’s
    ear.
</p>
<p>
    Hook couldn’t help the way he shivered. Peter pulled back with a grin and
    an amused laugh and Hook could only scowl in return, too afraid to reply
    and have his voice shake.
</p>
<p>
    Turning away without another look, Peter left and closed the door behind
    him. Hook leaned back against the door to his office and breathed deeply.
</p>
<p>
    He wanted Peter to come back as much as he never wanted to see him again.
</p>
<p>
    And he desperately wanted a drink.
</p>
<p>
    ~*~*~
</p>
<p>
    “Still drinking alone?”
</p>
<p>
    Hook looked up sharply at the sound of Peter’s voice. He was leaning
    against the doorframe, one foot propped up against the wall, arms crossed
    over his chest, trademark smirk on his face.
</p>
<p>
    “How did you get in here?” He knew it was a stupid question seeing as Peter
    used to break into his apartment on a regular basis. His newly-purchased
    house had no reason to be different. Peter simply raised an eyebrow in
    response and pushed away from the wall.
</p>
<p>
    Hook downed more of his drink – rum with a little coke; he tried to avoid
    drinking straight from the bottle these days. Of course with Peter here, he
    was already tempted.
</p>
<p>
    Peter sat down next to him on the couch – close enough to touch of course.
    He nodded towards his drink. “No bottle this year?” he asked, ever
    observant.
</p>
<p>
    “I’ve been trying to cut back,” he answered, the words more automatic than
    believable.
</p>
<p>
    Peter looked at him curiously for a moment, something like concern flitting
    through his eyes too quickly for Hook to know if it had really been there.
    He reached for his drink, fingers brushing Hook’s as he plucked it out of
    his hand. Peter took a sip and raised his eyebrow as he met Hook’s eyes
    again, grimacing as he swallowed.
</p>
<p>
    “I can tell,” he finally replied. “That splash of coke really makes the
    difference between alcoholic and <em>functioning</em> alcoholic.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook glared at him and snatched his drink back, finishing it in one gulp.
    “I don’t need a lecture, Peter,” he snapped, setting his glass down on the
    end table with a little too much force.
</p>
<p>
    To his surprise, Peter held up both hands in surrender. “I didn’t come here
    to argue with you, Killian.”
</p>
<p>
    “Why <em>did</em> you come here?” he asked, hating the twinge of
    desperation in his voice. He’d be lying if he said that seeing Peter again
    hadn’t turned his carefully-constructed world upside down.
</p>
<p>
    Peter dropped one hand down to his shoulder and squeezed gently. Hook
    shivered at his touch, anger draining from him and quickly being replaced
    with something more desperate.
</p>
<p>
    “I honestly didn’t expect to find you alone,” Peter murmured. He pressed
    closer, fingers finding skin at the back of Hook’s neck and moving slowly
    back and forth. “I know why you’re drinking,” he went on, voice low and
    surprisingly serious. “I know what day it is, Killian. How could I forget?”
</p>
<p>
    Hook squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a shuddering breath. He couldn’t
    help turning towards Peter, wanting to be closer. He knew he was swimming
    in dangerous water; he’d been here before and he knew how easy it was to
    drown. He just wasn’t sure that he cared.
</p>
<p>
    “Why isn’t <em>she</em> here?” Peter asked. “I truly expected to look
    through your window and find you here with her tonight. Unless…” he trailed
    off. Hook knew he’d figure it out. “Unless you haven’t told her.” He
    reached out with his other hand and put it on the side of Hook’s face,
    turning him to meet his gaze fully. “You haven’t, have you? About Liam,
    about…me. Any of it.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook shook his head. “No,” he answered. “Milah doesn’t know what happened,
    or when. And as far as tonight goes, I just told her I was tired from work
    and was going to stay in.”
</p>
<p>
    Both of Peter’s hands were at the back of his neck now as he pressed
    himself closer. “And she’s never asked, never tried to comfort you?”
</p>
<p>
    He sounded almost angry now, but Hook shook his head. “Don’t,” he said
    sharply. “Don’t make her out to be a bad person or girlfriend for this. She
    doesn’t have the <em>distinct</em> advantage that you do when it comes to
    knowledge of my past.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter had the decency to flinch at that. He looked down for a moment and
    when he met Hook’s gaze again, his eyes were filled with guilt and regret.
    It was a lot like the day Hook had figured out that Peter had killed his
    brother.
</p>
<p>
    But as was usual with Peter, the look didn’t last long. Hook wasn’t
    surprised or hurt though. He knew that regret was a costly emotion for
    Peter to feel, much less show. Living as he had for so long as a teenager,
    his choices hadn’t always been his own. Regretting them could end up
    getting him punished.
</p>
<p>
    Peter’s fingers slid through the hair at the back of his neck, nails
    dragging gently against his scalp. Hook leaned into the touch and shut his
    eyes, slumping closer against Peter. Peter was quick to take advantage,
    leaning in to press their lips together. Hook sighed into the kiss and
    slipped his arms loosely around his waist.
</p>
<p>
    It all seemed…inevitable.
</p>
<p>
    He knew he’d feel guilty later, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t
    missed this. Hadn’t missed Peter and the feel of him in his arms. It had
    been years, but his presence had lingered in Hook’s life ever since he had
    left. It was one of the reasons he’d tried so hard to change parts of his
    life…in the hopes of moving on. New house, new relationship…he’d even made
    the effort to try and drink less. It had helped to an extent, but still,
    thoughts of Peter would catch him at the most random moments. Having him
    reappear was both a blessing and a curse.
</p>
<p>
    What started soft and comforting, soon turned into a deeper more desperate
    sort of kiss. He pulled Peter closer, and he went willingly, crawling into
    Hook’s lap.
</p>
<p>
    “Let me help you forget,” Peter whispered against his mouth, teeth tugging
    gently at his bottom lip.
</p>
<p>
    Hook dug his fingers into Peter’s hips and pressed him closer, chasing his
    mouth with his own. He brought one hand to the back of Peter’s head and
    kissed him deeply, moaning a little at the taste of his mouth. “I’ll regret
    you in the morning,” he said harshly, fingers tugging at his hair.
</p>
<p>
    Peter smirked and slipped his hands beneath Hook’s shirt. “Just like old
    times then.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt, dragging it up to pull over
    Peter’s head. He slipped out of his own shirt too, and pulled Peter in for
    another kiss, moaning at the feel of their skin pressed together.
</p>
<p>
    Eventually, Peter broke their kiss to mouth his way down the side of Hook’s
    throat. He bit down lightly on the skin of his shoulder and Hook felt a
    flash of heat and arousal surge through him.
</p>
<p>
    “You don’t get to mark me, Peter,” he said in a low voice. Despite how it
    felt, how much he wanted this, he didn’t want to get caught. He didn’t want
    to hurt Milah. And he didn’t want to have to explain Peter to her either.
</p>
<p>
    Peter’s response was to give him a look of skepticism and drag his nails
    slowly down Hook’s chest. He leaned in closer to kiss him again as he
    unbuttoned his jeans and slipped his hand inside.
</p>
<p>
    Hook sucked in a sharp breath and shut his eyes, head falling back against
    the couch as Peter’s fingers curled around his cock and began to stroke him
    slowly. He reached out eagerly, hands wanting to touch as much of him as he
    could.
</p>
<p>
    “Peter…” he groaned, voice low and breathless over his name. He’d be lying
    if he said he hadn’t wanted this again from the second Peter had walked
    into his office.
</p>
<p>
    His lips were hot and soft against the corner of his mouth, his jawline,
    his neck. Pressed close to his ear, he whispered, “Tell me what you want,
    Killian. Do you want me on my knees? Just like the first time?”
</p>
<p>
    Hook groaned and pushed himself more fully into Peter’s hand. He did want
    that, could picture without a moment’s hesitation the night in question…a
    younger Peter on his knees, unbuttoning his jeans and sucking him off. But
    he wanted more. He had missed him for too long.
</p>
<p>
    He dug his fingers into the back of Peter’s neck and pulled him in for
    another kiss, deep and full of desire. “Not now,” he whispered harshly
    against Peter’s reddened mouth. He ran his hands down Peter’s back and
    beneath the waistband of pants. “I want to fuck you.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter’s fingers faltered for just a second as he shivered, but his eyes
    were full of shiny lust and want. He kissed Hook back and groaned his
    consent into his mouth. “Here?” he panted.
</p>
<p>
    Hook shook his head. “In my bed.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter grinned wickedly, and Hook knew why. It sent a stab of guilt through
    him. Peter had always been possessive, and Hook was sure that the thought
    of fucking him in the same bed he shared with Milah was something Peter
    would relish.
</p>
<p>
    They shed the rest of their clothes on the way up the stairs. Hook wondered
    briefly if he shouldn’t be hesitating or resisting more; he didn’t enjoy
    the idea of cheating on Milah after all. But he’d learned a long time ago
    that resisting Peter wasn’t something he’d ever been able to do
    successfully.
</p>
<p>
    “Stop it,” Peter said sharply. He tugged on Hook’s hair and nipped at his
    bottom lip. “You know I hate it when you think too much.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter grinned at him and pulled him close. Hook could only shake his head,
    unable to stop himself from smiling back. There was so much about Peter
    that he still feared, still failed to understand. But he’d always been good
    at getting Hook out of his own head. Whether or not that was a good thing,
    he wasn’t sure. But it hardly mattered now.
</p>
<p>
    Peter pulled him down into bed, hands touching him greedily as Hook brought
    their lips together in another deep kiss. He knew this rhythm, knew how
    Peter felt beneath his hands, what Peter liked. It had been years, but he
    still knew. He doubted he would ever forget.
</p>
<p>
    It was almost like a blur after that, yet he knew he’d be able to recall
    every moment of the night later down to the smallest detail. Peter’s hands
    all over him, hips pressed tightly together as they kissed, Hook desperate
    to touch and taste as much of Peter’s skin as he could reach. Peter
    pressing lube into his hands – how he knew where to look for it, Hook
    wasn’t sure, but he knew not to ask those sorts of questions now. He
    pressed his fingers into Peter slowly, one at a time, watching him tremble
    and moan and <em>want</em>. It made Hook harder than he already was as he
    dug his other hand into Peter’s hip and slowly opened him up. He couldn’t
    stop himself from remembering the first time they’d done this; how he’d
    been out of his mind with lust and desperation and even shame…but not
    enough to stop him.
</p>
<p>
    “You’re…<em>fuck</em>…you’re doing it again,” Peter growled. He reached up
    and tugged Hook down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, his eyes wide with
    lust and pleasure.
</p>
<p>
    “Doing what?” Hook breathed, mouth trailing down Peter’s throat to suck and
    bite at his soft skin. He pushed his fingers deeper into Peter and reveled
    in the way he groaned.
</p>
<p>
    “Thinking too much,” Peter gasped in reply. He dragged his hand down Hook’s
    side, then quickly between his legs to stroke him again. “Fuck me, Killian.
    Now.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook wrapped his hand around the back of Peter’s neck and pulled him up for
    a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as Peter’s thumb pressed into the
    tip of his cock. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of him, both hands
    running up his thighs now, pushing his knees back. Peter was quick to slip
    a condom and lube into his hand, pulling him down for another kiss as he
    did.
</p>
<p>
    He watched Peter’s face as he pushed inside of him slowly. He bit down on
    his lower lip and let his head fall back against the pillow. Pain crossed
    his features briefly as his fingers found Hook’s wrist and squeezed
    tightly, the other hand twisting in the sheets. Hook ran his hand up and
    down Peter’s thigh to soothe, but didn’t stop. He knew Peter, and knew that
    his eyes would flash with anger if he did.
</p>
<p>
    Peter moaned low in his throat when Hook finally stopped. He opened his
    eyes and met Hook’s dark eyes, nodding quickly. “Don’t stop,” he panted.
</p>
<p>
    “Wasn’t planning to…” Hook replied, voice pitched low. He pulled out
    slightly and back in swiftly, drawing another moan from Peter. He loved the
    sounds he could wring from him this way.
</p>
<p>
    Peter wrapped his legs around Hook’s hips and dragged his hands down his
    back. “More…” he moaned.
</p>
<p>
    Hook slid his arms beneath Peter and up his back, curling around his
    shoulders and pressing him closer as he pushed into him again and again.
    Peter wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a
    messy kiss, biting at his lower lip.
</p>
<p>
    “Peter…<em>fuck</em>…” he panted, arms tightening around him as he thrust
    into him harder. He’d missed the feel of Peter beneath him, against him,
    all around him. Missed it more than he’d let himself think about.
</p>
<p>
    He buried himself in Peter over and over, pulling him close, digging his
    fingers into his hips, pressing messy kisses to his mouth, neck and chest.
    Peter groaned his name and tightened his hold on him, kissing him back
    eagerly, pressing his hips up into him. Hook reached between them to close
    his fingers around Peter’s cock, grinning into his mouth as he felt Peter
    jerk in surprise.
</p>
<p>
    “Killian…just…don’t stop,” he gasped. Hook moaned in agreement against him.
</p>
<p>
    It was a blurry mess of limbs, lips, teeth and sweat from there. Peter
    gasped and tugged sharply on his hair as he came, teeth biting down on his
    swollen bottom lip. Hook was quick to follow, fingers digging into Peter’s
    hips as he pushed deeply inside of him again, coming with Peter’s name on
    his lips.
</p>
<p>
    Wrung out, they were slow to move apart as their breathing slowed. Hook
    pulled out of him slowly, got rid of the condom and fell back against
    Peter’s side. Peter turned his head lazily and met his eyes with a smirk.
</p>
<p>
    “What?”
</p>
<p>
    “You seemed to still like this.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook narrowed his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I still like it?”
</p>
<p>
    “Well…I’m not seventeen anymore.”
</p>
<p>
    “Fuck off.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter laughed and curled his hand around the back of Hook’s neck, fingers
    passing through his damp, sweaty hair. He pressed a soft kiss to Hook’s
    mouth before dropping his head down against his chest.
</p>
<p>
    Hook pulled the sheet over both of them, leaned over and turned off the
    bedside lamp, and then pulled Peter a little closer.
</p>
<p>
    Resisting a little, Peter pulled back slightly, trying to meet his eyes in
    the relative darkness of the room. “Who said I was staying the night?”
</p>
<p>
    Hook shrugged, eyes closed, not letting go. “You can leave if you want…or
    you can wake me up in the morning with a blow job.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter was silent for a moment, and Hook had to fight not to open his eyes
    and see his expression. But then he laughed lowly and leaned in to kiss him
    again before settling against his side.
</p>
<p>
    ~*~*~
</p>
<p>
    She caught them on a Tuesday afternoon.
</p>
<p>
    Milah usually worked daylight hours at the hospital, but had switched her
    shift with a coworker. She came home to find them fucking in Hook’s bed.
    Peter in his lap, riding him, both of them sweaty and flushed and
    completely absorbed with one another.
</p>
<p>
    They hadn’t even seen her standing in the doorway.
</p>
<p>
    …Peter<em> might</em> have seen her out of the corner of his eye.
</p>
<p>
    He might have seen a flash of dark hair, a hand on the doorknob, knew that
    if he turned or acknowledged her in any way that Killian would take notice,
    and push him away. And he didn’t want that. Not only because it felt so
    fucking good to have Killian buried inside of him, to be wrapped up and
    tangled with him. But because he loved that Hook was so focused on him –
    something he was loathe to admit he’d missed – that he couldn’t even be
    bothered to see his own girlfriend in the doorway of their shared bedroom.
    It thrilled Peter.
</p>
<p>
    What he hadn’t expected was for her to stay. And when they stumbled
    downstairs later, half dressed and still stopping to make-out every few
    feet, she finally snapped and threw a glass against the wall to get Hook’s
    attention.
</p>
<p>
    It hadn’t been pretty. And Peter may have stayed on the porch to listen to
    most of the fight after Hook had ordered him to leave.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Milah…I’m sorry.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>
        “Is that all you can say? You didn’t look sorry to be fucking him in
        our bed! Who is he?”
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    Silence. Peter smirked. He knew Hook wouldn’t give up his secrets easily.
    Especially not this one.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Who is he?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“It’s not important…”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>
        “The hell it’s not! You seemed awfully comfortable with him so I’m
        guessing this isn’t the first time.”
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    Silence again, and Peter could picture Hook’s expression, knew his guilt
    was unavoidable and would be painted all over his face.
</p>
<p>
    <em>
        “I am sorry, Milah. I never wanted to hurt you. Quite honestly, I
        didn’t think he’d still be here.”
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Here?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“In Storybrooke. I thought he would’ve left again by now.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Again?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    A pause. He wasn’t being as careful.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“He used to live here. A few years ago…before you moved to town.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“And?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“And what?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Were you fucking him then too?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“We uh…lived together for about a year. He moved out…left town.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>
        “How long has he been back? How long have you been sleeping with him
        behind my back?”
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter could <em>feel</em> him closing himself off, probably dropping sadly
    onto the couch, fingers itching for a cold glass or bottle to hold in his
    hand. He knew how very much Killian hated to be a disappointment to someone
    he cared for.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“A few weeks. He showed up in my office a few weeks ago.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Silence again. Peter didn’t know her…despite stalking her online for a bit,
    and then stalking her in person at the coffee shop where she went on some
    of her lunch breaks. But he’d just wanted to see what she looked like, to
get a superficial feel for the woman who more or less lived with    <em>his</em> Killian. He may have been gone for five years, he may have
    been the one who left, but it didn’t stop him from being possessive. He
    didn’t know if she was the type to work things out and forgive or if she
    gave no second chances to someone who cheated on her. He wasn’t sure which
    one he’d prefer.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Have you always been….”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“An asshole?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter clapped a hand to his mouth to stop from laughing out loud. No one
    had ever been more self-depreciating than Killian Jones.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Bisexual.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>
        “…um, I guess. It’s not something I’ve ever really thought much about.”
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter knew that wasn’t true, but it hardly mattered for this conversation.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“He seems…”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Also an asshole?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter smirked and rolled his eyes.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Young.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Oh and there it was. A sly grin spread across his face. Peter knew there
    was no way Killian would climb out of this now. His guilt wouldn’t let him.
    He could <em>feel</em> the shame and desperation radiating off of him
    through the walls. Peter could reassure him every day for the rest of his
    life that everything they’d done when he’d been seventeen had been
    something he’d wanted and not regretted and it wouldn’t matter. The guilt
    would always be there.
</p>
<p>
    Silence for a while longer. Peter waited. He imagined Milah was waiting
    too.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“He is…”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter shook his head and fought the urge to barge back inside and give her
    the whole sordid history.
    <em>
        I was underage when he first started fucking me, Milah! Oh and did he
        also mention that I murdered his brother?!
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“What now, Killian? I can’t just…forgive and forget.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>
        “I don’t expect you to. I am sorry though…I never meant to hurt you
        like this.”
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“So that’s it then?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“I’m sorry.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“I heard you. I’ll come back for my stuff another day.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter left then, not wanting to get caught listening. Oh he wouldn’t mind
    if Milah saw him, but he decided to spare Killian anymore pain at the
    moment.
</p>
<p>
    ~*~*~
</p>
<p>
    When he came back the next day he was surprised to find Milah’s car in the
    driveway. He hid off to the side and watched her walk out with a box that
    she shoved into the backseat before heading back inside.
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Milah…I…I’m sorry. Are you sure we can’t talk about this?”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter frowned. He didn’t want Hook trying to reconcile with her. He wasn’t
    entirely sure what <em>he</em> wanted from Hook or their…relationship, but
    he was nothing if not possessive.
</p>
<p>
    <em>
        “You cheated on me, Killian. With your…ex, or whatever he is to you.
        Clearly, there’s more to this than just a couple of nights of sex.”
    </em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“Milah…Peter is not…I don’t want…”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“It doesn’t matter. You cheated on me. I can’t forgive that.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“I’m sorry.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>“I am too…I really liked you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
    Peter watched her leave. Part of him wanted to confront her or slowly
    saunter towards the front door as he caught her eye…smirk a little bit and
    wave. But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed hidden towards the side of the
    house as he watched her back out of the driveway and drive down the street.
</p>
<p>
    He waited only a few minutes before knocking on the door.
</p>
<p>
    He could tell from Hook’s expression that he had been hopeful she had come
    back. But it changed quickly to a resigned sort of acceptance.
</p>
<p>
    “Can I come in?” he asked, leaning against the door frame. He knew he could
    come in without an invitation, but he wanted Hook to want him there.
</p>
<p>
    He shrugged and turned away from the door, leaving it open. “Sure.”
</p>
<p>
    Sighing, Peter followed him inside and into the kitchen where he watched
    him pour what he suspected was not his first drink of the day.
</p>
<p>
    “She left me.”
</p>
<p>
    “I’m sorry.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook looked up at that and narrowed his eyes as he took a sip. “Are you?”
</p>
<p>
    Peter didn’t answer, hands on his hips as he leaned back against the door
    frame. “Is there something I can do?”
</p>
<p>
    He peered at Peter over the rim of his glass for a long time, eyes
    unreadable. Finally, he set his drink down on the counter and took a few
    steps closer. “Isn’t this where you normally lean in close and brush your
    hands through my hair, get me a drink and tell me you’ll do anything I
    want?”
</p>
<p>
    Raising his eyebrow, he couldn’t help the startled laugh he let out. It
    was…an <em>accurate</em> account of many of their encounters. “You already
    have a drink.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook scowled in reply and glared at him.
</p>
<p>
    “Is that what you want?” Peter asked.
</p>
<p>
    Shrugging, Hook went back to his drink and didn’t answer. For a few
    minutes, neither of them said anything else, but Peter watched him closely.
    Eventually, he felt the need to be closer so he pushed off the wall behind
    him and took the few steps across the kitchen to stand in front of him. He
    reached out and plucked the glass from his hand and set it on the counter
    next to them. He could smell the rum from here. Reaching out, he slid his
    fingers down Hook’s arm and then slowly around his waist to pull him
    closer.
</p>
<p>
    “Why did you leave?” he asked Peter suddenly.
</p>
<p>
    “What? When she caught us? You <em>told</em> me to leave,” he answered.
</p>
<p>
    Hook shook his head. “No, not then. Why did you leave? The first time…”
</p>
<p>
    That shocked him into silence. He didn’t know how to answer, and it wasn’t
    often that he couldn’t come up with something to say; even if it was a lie.
    The thing was, he couldn’t really answer because he wasn’t entirely sure.
    There had been a youthful desire for freedom and independence and to live
    somewhere other than the town he had felt trapped in for so long. But there
    was more to it than that. Hook had offered stability and comfort and…well,
    he definitely couldn’t call it love – he still couldn’t – but they had
    cared for one another on some level. But Peter was entirely unsure if he
    wanted or, more to the point, deserved any of that.
</p>
<p>
    Hook stepped more fully into his arms and slid his fingers into Peter’s
    hair. “And why did you come back?”
</p>
<p>
    Shrugging, he pressed himself closer and slid his hands across Hook’s
    shoulders to the back of his neck. “I missed you,” he said nonchalantly,
    like it wasn’t a big deal. It sort of was, but neither of them needed to
    admit that. He realized he hadn’t answered Hook’s first question about why
    he’d left initially, but he wasn’t planning to. He still didn’t quite know
    how.
</p>
<p>
    He certainly didn’t want to try and explain any of his reasoning. He wasn’t
    even sure any of it made sense, and examining his feelings was not
    something he planned on doing anytime soon. And although he hadn’t
    necessarily meant to turn Hook’s life upside down – again – he still wasn’t
    sure what he wanted next. Except it felt nice to be here…in his arms, happy
    with the knowledge that he held almost all of the upper hand in their
    relationship. It was surprisingly comfortable. He wasn’t sure how long he’d
    be able to trust it, but he had always been good at living in the moment.
</p>
<p>
    Peter let his arms drift downward, slinging them loosely around Hook’s
    waist and let his hands flatten against the small of his back. He pressed
    his lips to the side of Hook’s jaw, smiling a little when he felt him
    shiver. Hook pulled back a bit and framed his face in his both hands,
    leaning down slightly to kiss him.
</p>
<p>
    They were nearly the same height now, but Peter pushed up on his toes
    anyway and pulled him closer. <em>This</em> he knew. This he was
    comfortable with. Taking Hook apart with his hands and body and mouth. He
    knew what he liked, what he craved…what made him weak and kept him addicted
    to Peter. Trying to figure out how he felt? That wasn’t quite as easy or
    something he was particularly willing to try.
</p>
<p>
    But Hook wasn’t giving in as easily this time. Perhaps Peter had
    underestimated his feelings for Milah or even his level of contentedness
    with his new life.
</p>
<p>
    “So what happens now, Peter?” he asked, voice soft but serious.
</p>
<p>
    Peter met his stare and frowned, uncertain what it was he was seeing there
    in his eyes.
</p>
<p>
    “Now that you’ve turned my life upside down again. I don’t even know why
    you’re back in Storybrooke. Was it just for this? For me? Or something
    else? Where are you even staying when you’re not here?” He didn’t exactly
    sound angry, but Peter could sense his frustration and desperation. He
    always did ask a lot of questions.
</p>
<p>
    Sighing, Peter stepped back and leaned against the counter. He knew he had
to give a little. He didn’t like it…his seventeen year old self would’ve    <em>hated</em> it, but he was a little more willing to compromise these
    days.
</p>
<p>
    “I didn’t come back intentionally,” he started. “Although, I wasn’t lying
    when I said I missed you,” he added, smiling just slightly. “I was working
    and it happened to lead me here. I was a little reluctant to come back, but
    the pay was too good to pass up.”
</p>
<p>
    Hook frowned. “Working,” he said flatly. “Doing what exactly?”
</p>
<p>
    “Are you sure you want to know?”
</p>
<p>
    “I’m not a cop. I’m not obligated to report you.”
</p>
<p>
    “Who said what I was doing is illegal?”
</p>
<p>
    Hook gave him a flat stare. “I’m not an idiot.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, fine…I was mostly living in New York
    while I was gone. I found some odd jobs here and there, slept with a few of
    the right people for money when I needed to make ends meet.” Hook winced at
    that and Peter paused and glared at him, daring him to object. When he
    stayed silent, he went on. “But then I found my true calling.”
</p>
<p>
    “And what is that?”
</p>
<p>
    “Fencing stupidly expensive items to willing buyers.” He smirked.
</p>
<p>
    Hook’s eyes widened and he took a small step forward. “Seriously? This is
    your <em>true calling</em>?”
</p>
<p>
    “Oh I’m sorry, were you expecting me to go to law school?” he quipped.
</p>
<p>
    “Peter…”
</p>
<p>
    “Or maybe you figured prostitution would fit me better? Are you surprised
    that’s not where the story ended?” he snapped.
</p>
<p>
    Hook shook his head. “I didn’t say that. And I <em>don’t</em> think that.”
    His voice was soft, but when Peter glared at him he was surprised not to
    see any pity in his gaze. Hook stepped closer and reached out to squeeze
    his shoulder, fingers moving slowly down his arm. His touch was
    surprisingly gentle and Peter had to fight the desire to step into his
    arms.
</p>
<p>
    “So what brought you back to Storybrooke?” Hook asked eventually.
</p>
<p>
    Peter drew in a shaky breath and cleared his throat, stepping away from
    Hook’s touch once again even though he really didn’t want to. “The guy I
    was working with in New York specialized in a lot of old artwork. He found
    a buyer here for one particularly expensive painting. So I volunteered to
    bring it to him and get the money.”
</p>
<p>
    “And who was that?” Hook asked. Peter could hear the curiosity in his
    voice. No one in the town was exactly dripping with money to buy expensive
    art.
</p>
<p>
    “He used a code name. An old fairytale villain,” he answered, curious
    suddenly to see if Hook knew who he meant. He thought he might when he
    stilled and his gaze turned a little bit sharper. “He also owns a pawn
    shop.”
</p>
<p>
    “Gold,” Hook breathed, anger flashing in his dark eyes now.
</p>
<p>
    “Ah, so you do know him,” Peter replied.
</p>
<p>
    Hook rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows him. You’re not…working for him are
    you?”
</p>
<p>
    Peter shook his head. “I’m not currently working for anyone. That’s one of
    the things I like best about this line of work. I gave him his painting –
    some old, ugly-looking castle – and took my money. I wired most of it back
    to New York and kept my portion. And to answer the next question that I can
    already see you want to ask, I am staying at that ratty little hotel near
    the diner. It hardly costs much and I can definitely afford it with what I
    made on that painting.”
</p>
<p>
    “Peter…you’re really not doing anything else for Gold?”
</p>
<p>
    “No, why? Should I be?”
</p>
<p>
    Hook glared at him. “Fuck, no. He’s…dangerous.”
</p>
<p>
    “I think he just has a lot of money to spend on weird things.”
</p>
<p>
    “Don’t be naïve,” Hook snapped. “You’re smarter than that.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter glared back and stepped closer. “I was kidding. Jesus. I can sense
    danger when I’m around it. You forget how I lived for most of my fucking
    childhood,” he said darkly.
</p>
<p>
    Hook flinched slightly. “Liam tried so hard to find something, anything, to
    pin on him and get him arrested. There was never anything he could find.”
</p>
<p>
    “Well maybe your brother should’ve been a better cop.”
</p>
<p>
    Peter knew the words would cut and he could see the second that they did.
    What he hadn’t expected was how the wounded look in Hook’s eyes would make
    his heart clench painfully in his chest.
</p>
<p>
    There was a reason they never talked about Hook’s brother.
</p>
<p>
    Hook turned away and found his drink on the counter. He downed it in one
    swallow and slammed the glass back down. He didn’t move.
</p>
<p>
    Feeling shaky, Peter waited a few minutes without saying a word.
    Eventually, he closed the space between them and wrapped his arms around
    Hook from behind. He pressed his lips to the back of his neck and held him
    tightly. The words wouldn’t come…Peter wasn’t sure he even knew how to say
    them. But he pressed them into his skin with his touch.
</p>
<p>
    <em>I’m sorry.</em>
</p>
<p>
    “I swear to you, I’m not working for or with Gold,” he murmured eventually.
    “If this had been any other town, I would’ve taken my money and left the
    same day to go back to the city. But it’s not. And no other towns have you
    in them…”
</p>
<p>
    It was, without a doubt, the closest thing to a confession of feelings that
    Peter had ever made.
</p>
<p>
    He felt Hook shiver at his words and slump back against him, hands coming
    up to cover Peter’s where they lay pressed tightly against his chest and
    abdomen.
</p>
<p>
    They stayed that way for a while until Hook finally turned around. “You can
    stay here,” he offered. “If you want. For…however long you want.” Hook
    wasn’t naïve. He knew that permanence wasn’t exactly something either of
    them were familiar with. He slid his fingers through Peter’s hair and
    around to the back of his neck, leaning in to kiss him.
</p>
<p>
    Smirking – because smiling genuinely would reveal entirely too much – Peter
    pressed in close and let his lips brush across his chin and the corner of
    his mouth as he pulled back from the kiss. “For now.”
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can definitely say that I never thought I would finish this.  I started the sequel not too long after finishing "Poisoned"...and that was five years ago.  I've thought about it every once in a while, but never had the inclination to revisit/finish it until recently.  Thank you, quarantine, I guess?!  I do still miss these two though!  I actually have ideas for a 3rd part...but only in my mind.  So maybe I'll get that written in another five years!  :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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